


Supernova

by dastiel_gal (rock_chick), rock_chick



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-21
Updated: 2011-02-21
Packaged: 2017-10-24 06:48:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/260323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rock_chick/pseuds/dastiel_gal, https://archiveofourown.org/users/rock_chick/pseuds/rock_chick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jobless, homeless, destitute, and stranded at the ass-end of the galaxy.  Oh, and his fiancee is dead.  Mail-order spouse Jensen's having a <i>really</i> bad day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Supernova

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http://ladyjanelly.livejournal.com/profile)[**ladyjanelly**](http://ladyjanelly.livejournal.com/) at the Jeff/Jensen comment fic meme [here](http://mysticwaters.livejournal.com/99378.html?thread=1561138#t1561138) for the prompt _On the frontier of space, Jensen is a mail-order-spouse who arrives after a long journey, only to find out that his intended has died. Jeff knows he's no replacement but if given the chance, he'd like to offer Jensen a life here._ Very vaguely set in the Firefly universe.

"Look, there has to be _something_ else. I'm NOT going down the mines!"

Jensen's 2.5 parsecs away from hyperventilating himself unconscious. He can't believe he's travelled all this way for nothing. Oh, yeah, and he hasn't got enough credits for the ride home. All twenty light years of it.

The immigration officer looks at him with a certain amount of pity, but her voice is firm. "I'm sorry, sir, but you cannot enter the base unless you're married to a legal resident, or have accepted an offer of employment here. And the only jobs currently available are manual-labour mining jobs."

Jensen's desperate, but miners in this godforsaken hellhole have the life-expectancy of a lab rat. "Isn't there anyone else who wants to get married?"

"Sir, contract spouses are costly, and very few people here have sufficient credits. Also, the market is mostly comprised of male mining company executives who want wives. In the last six months, only two people have applied for outline visas for a male spouse. One was your late fiancee..."

"Well, how about the other?" interrupts Jensen.

"I'm sure _he_ would be interested, particularly as he won't have to pay your passage or the agency fees. But your visa application says you're hetero."

Jensen goes hot and cold, but he has little choice. He burned his last bridge by coming here. He's got no home to go back to - he couldn't afford the fare anyway - and he'd sooner slit his throat than go down the mines. "I can be flexible on that," he croaks.

~~000~~

Two hours later, Jensen is married, and he and his new husband are in a private transport pod, on their way to Jeff's quarters. The guy seems nice enough; good-looking and well-built, with a friendly smile. Somewhat older than Jensen, sure, but then nobody his age can afford to have a spouse shipped in from halfway across the next solar system. He'd lit up like a supernova when he'd got a look at Jensen and been told he was available, but then balked a little at that 'heterosexual' tickbox on the screen. "I ain't looking to pay all this money just for a housekeeper, boy. The credit transfer doesn't go through till the marriage has been consummated." Jensen had been desperate enough by that point to agree to the unusual stipulation, and the documentation and standard pledges had been done with whirlwind swiftness; but now he's had time to calm down a bit from the blind panic brought on by disaster and complete destitution, he's starting to worry about what comes next.

"They can hear you thinking on Earth-That-Was, boy. Am I all that scary?"

Jensen shakes his head and gives him a sickly smile. "I, um. You know I've never..."

"Yeah, I figured. Don't worry, kid, I'll make it easy on you. Ever heard of Jiba Oil?"

Jensen has. It's illegal on near about all civilized planets, mostly because productivity takes a nose-dive when the workforce is too fucked out to make it in to work. Maybe this won't be so bad after all.

~~000~~

Jensen melts into the sheets as Jeff's hands glide over his back, pressing the knots out of his tense muscles. He can feel the oil working on him, a gentle lazy warmth sinking into his bones, relaxing his brain as much as his body. For all that it's illicit, this stuff is safe to use; it lowers inhibitions and heightens arousal, but doesn't affect reasoning or personality. It isn't going to lead him into doing anything he truly doesn't want to, is the point, and just to be extra-reassuring, Jeff is wearing latex gloves to minimize his own exposure and keep a cool head. If Jensen wants to stop, that will be it, Jeff will back off, no questions. Only, it's been a long time since he got laid, and Jeff's touch feels So. Gorram. Good. He pushes back into his hands, moaning.

Jeff rolls him over, tips a few more drops of oil into his palm, and starts on the front. The heat is getting stronger, starting to radiate out of him, sensitizing his skin and quickening his pulse. Jeff's hands work down his chest, trails of fire that make his breath hitch. The strokes stop at the top of his underwear, and he moans in frustration as his cock twitches, desperate to be touched.

"You okay, baobei?" Jeff asks, dipping his head to kiss Jensen's belly. His fingers slide along the waistband. "Ready to lose these?"

Jensen's voice catches in his throat. He can feel every atom of his skin burning with need, but he can't say it. He bucks his hips upward, wordlessly offering. Jeff takes that as the consent it was meant as, and slides the fabric down Jensen's hips. Jensen closes his eyes, momentarily embarrassed, then lets out a yell as his cock is engulfed in the wet heat of Jeff's mouth. It feels gorram wonderful, so much so that he doesn't even care about the scratch of beard against his balls as Jeff slides all the way down him to the root, deep-throating him better than any girl ever did. After a few minutes of that, Jensen barely even _notices_ any more that the body in bed with him belongs to a guy. He's shaking all over, ridiculous noises escaping from him as Jeff sucks.

Jensen's getting so overheated and needy that his hitherto-heterosexual brain hardly makes a peep of protest when one oil-slick finger slides down between his cheeks to stroke his hole, and after a few gentle circles, push in. He's so completely wrapped up in his own burning arousal, in the clamour of his body and the delicious, maddening sensation of that finger moving inside him, that he loses track of everything else. He's dimly aware that he's writhing and, when Jeff adds a second, then a third finger, yowling like a cat in heat. If it weren't for the oil, he'd probably be dying of mortification, but all he can think is _More._

"Jensen, baobei," growls Jeff, sliding his fingers out and stripping off the gloves, "can I?"

Jensen whines, far past speech now. By way of answer, he scoops up the little puddle of jiba oil sitting in his navel and smears it up Jeff's throat, then snakes his hand round to grab his nape and haul him up over Jensen's body. Jeff makes a bitten-off sound, his face all screwed up in a lusty snarl, and pushes Jensen's thighs wide apart. As Jensen feels the thick blunt cock nudging its way into him, his brain goes off again into that bright, wild place where all that exists is body and heat and sensation, but this time Jeff's there with him, moving in him, sparking fire all over his skin. He's vaguely conscious that Jeff is starting to lose it as his skin absorbs more of the oil from Jensen's chest and, oh God, from inside him, jiba oil on Jeff's _cock_ , fuck, that's so _filthy_ hot he can't stand it. And then they're slamming against each other, violent in their desperation, crying out and digging fingers in hard, spiralling up together in an explosion of heat and light and ecstasy. The world goes away for a long while, and nothing exists but them, Jensen and Jeff, _together_.

Jensen's going to _love_ being a contract husband. Just as long as the jiba oil keeps coming.

  
End.

~~000~~

_My Mandarin sucks, but best as I can figure out from a quick poke around the webz,  
jiba = cock  
baobei = sweetheart_


End file.
